


you can't choose what stays and what fades away

by rarmaster



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Gen, i jsut think minfilia and g'raha should be friends is the thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-12
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-19 02:55:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29992815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rarmaster/pseuds/rarmaster
Summary: Minfilia lives.She makes a few friends on the First.
Relationships: Ardbert & Minfilia Warde, G'raha Tia | Crystal Exarch & Minfilia Warde
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12





	you can't choose what stays and what fades away

**Author's Note:**

> this is part of a larger planned rewrite i'm gonna do of xiv with my wol, but this bit of the idea specifically was haunting me, didn't seem too hard to turn into a brief standalone fic, _and_ Minfilia just... needs more fics imo. please enjoy 
> 
> also my wol’s name is Anna tho and since the lore w/ Minfilia is They Grew Up In Ul’dah Together it seemed silly to not… call her by name…… so
> 
> also also: title's from florence and the machine's _no light, no light_ which is EXTREMELY a Minfilia song, you should go listen to it and cry

Minfilia wakes up. The sky overhead is blinding white, the ground under her dusty in the ways that make her think of home, except this dust is… dead. She pushes herself to her knees, and stops there for a moment to let her spinning head settle. She gets distracted from wiping the dust off her hands as she realizes two things.

One: it is quieter in her head than it has been in significantly longer than she can remember.

Two: someone is speaking to her.

The first she does not know what to do with ( _Hydaelyn’s influence on her weakening? Hydaelyn_ herself _weakening??_ ) and she knows even less how to _feel_ about it, so she tucks it away for later. The person speaking to her now is a matter significantly more urgent, after all.

“Oh, thank the gods,” the voice is saying—and looking up, Minfilia realizes she recognizes him, even if she cannot quite place his name. He’s one of the so-called Warriors of Darkness that she… that she traveled here with, yes. It’s coming back to her. “I was beginning to worry you weren’t… that you wouldn’t wake up, I guess. Or that you couldn’t hear me? …can you hear me?”

Minfilia blinks at him. “Yes, I can,” she tells him.

He slumps with relief and sends up another thank you to the gods. “That’s a relief,” he says, and doesn’t elaborate on the rest. “I’d, uh, offer to help you up, but, well… See for yourself.”

He holds a hand out to her. Minfilia really shouldn’t have been surprised when she finds him to be incorporeal, but she still goes “ _oh_!” when her hand passes right through his. He pulls his hand back and laughs—but it’s a raw throat kind of laugh which holds no real humor, just disappointment. A sound Minfilia’s used to hearing from Anna, if she’s honest.

“Well that’s alright, I figured it might be like that,” the man—the _ghost_ before her says. “At least you can see and hear me. Can’t say the same for the townsfolk.”

That sounds very, very sad, Minfilia thinks. She pushes herself to her feet with her own strength as he backs up, then brushes off her knees because the dress she’s wearing ( _how long has she been wearing this? Since Hydaelyn reached out for her, she supposes, but her memories are… foggy_ ) doesn’t cover her knees. Sand digging into her skin is something she’s used to, having grown up in Thanalan, but certainly not something she _enjoys._

“How are you still…?” Minfilia begins, because she remembers this man and his companions, she remembers the flood of light, and she remembers—ah, but that’s rude of her, isn’t it? “Sorry, forgive me,” she amends as quickly as she can. “First, actually, I think I should ask you your name? I don’t…” Know if she was told it. Remember what it is, if she was. “I didn’t catch it.”

“Oh, that’s fine, I had my friends calling me something else while we were on the Source, anyway—Um.” He laughs, more nervous, then scratches at the back of his head. “It’s Ardbert. What about you? I suppose even Oracles of Light have names they like to be called…”

His humor is nervous and rambly and also familiar. Thinking of her dear friend, Minfilia’s chest fills with warmth.

“Minfilia,” she answers.

She pauses here to get a better look at her surroundings. In front of her, buildings that look abandoned, if not quite yet run down yet. Behind her, a _solid wall of light,_ sculpted like a rising wave but frozen in time. She knows, looking at it, knows with a deeper part of her soul she figures must not belong solely to herself, anymore, that it will remain like that. A flood of light, halted. Destruction that massive leaves scars on the world, in one way or another.

“I suppose it worked, then,” she says, to no one in particular. She wishes she could remember it, clearly, but those memories are tainted by the sheer vastness of Hydaelyn, too vast for her to render the memories properly in her mind. She sighs.

“I suppose so,” Ardbert agrees, walking up beside her. “Thanks for that, by the way. I don’t know what we would have done if you hadn’t…”

He doesn’t finish. Minfilia doesn’t wish to make him.

“Ardbert?” she asks, finally. “You had… companions, didn’t you? What happened to them.”

“Oh. They… They lent you their strength, to stop the flood. I suppose they gave everything left they had to give.”

She looks to him in surprise. He stares unblinkingly up at the wall.

“I’m… sorry for your loss,” Minfilia says, hands clutched to her chest.

He shrugs. “Nah, that’s alright,” he laughs. “We’d already given our lives to save our world, you know? Only seems right. Don’t know why I didn’t go with them—ah, but, I’m glad to see _you’re_ all right.” He smiles wildly at her. “I can’t say it sat right with me, knowing a stranger would have to die for our world.”

If it had been necessary, Minfilia would have been happy to do it.

( _But that doesn’t make the thought hurt, any less._ )

“You said there was a town near here?” Minfilia says.

“Oh, right! Yes! Here, I can show you.”

-

Minfilia is surprised that so many people living this close to what would have been sure destruction had it not been stopped where it had. The townsfolk mostly talk about how they saw no reason in trying to outrun the flood, and are grateful it stopped where it did. Perhaps it is the gratefulness (or simply kindness) which allows Minfilia to procure not only a meal but also a change of clothes when she has literally no money to her name at the moment.

The clothes aren’t much in terms of style, primarily brown with a tattered, forest green cloak someone was willing to part with (and she misses the bright colors of her wardrobe back on the Source quite dearly), but they do their job of covering a significantly more reasonable amount of skin than that dress. She _also_ takes the time to pull the ribbons out of her hair and put them to some functional use, once she has her hair braided and tied up again. The heat of a desert and hair on one’s neck simply do not mix, even if she doesn’t _feel_ the heat quite yet.

(And quite honestly, she has spent so much of her life with her hair up that it’s _strange_ to feel it resting on her neck for any lengthy period of time.)

“Minfilia,” comes Ardbert’s voice, hissing, and Minfilia looks up to see him gesturing from the window, a motion she reads as _come outside._

Considering no one else can see or hear him, and save for the time she spent changing she has been surrounded by other displaced people trying to figure out what to do now that their lives _aren’t_ ending, Minfilia can understand why he doesn’t want to speak to her in a crowded room.

Considering no one else can see or hear him, she also understands why he’s stuck with her.

“What is it that you wanted?” Minfilia asks of him, once they are somewhere private—which is really just a few yalms outside of town.

“Here, look.” He points to the distance—to a crystalline tower that reaches the heavens. It’s nearly too far away to see, but reaches to the sky like a beacon, nonetheless. It would only be a more efficient beacon if it were against something other than pure daylight. “That wasn’t there earlier. I swear it wasn’t.”

“You know this world better than I,” Minfilia says, though she thinks that tower looks… familiar. Anyone who lived in Mor Dhona for any length of time would be hard pressed to forget that shape.

But what is it doing… here?

“Maybe we should investigate it,” Ardbert suggests. “Unless, I don’t know, you wanted to stay here and…?” He turns to look over the little town, filled mostly with people trying to pick themselves back up after near-destruction. Minfilia’s certain she _could_ find a way to help here, if she stayed, and she doesn’t quite appreciate the way Ardbert seems to be implying she’d much rather do anything else, but…

That’s not the point of it. Why in Hydaelyn’s good name did the Crystal Tower suddenly find its way _here_? Lacking a Warrior of Light and with only a ghost for a companion, it will fall to Minfilia herself to investigate questions she wants answered.

Of course, she is certainly no more of a fighter now than she was on the Source. If there are any monsters…

Well, should it come to that, she has faith that Hydaelyn will protect her.

“I _would_ like to know how that tower has found its way here,” Minfilia tells Ardbert. “Are you coming along?” she asks, though she’s fairly certain of his answer before he speaks it.

“Well, no one else can hear me, so yes. I don’t see why I’d do anything other than stick with you.”

And so they make their way to the Crystal Tower.

-

What they find when they arrive is a smattering of displaced people all guided by a nervous, redheaded Miqo’te who is dressed in somewhat elaborate robes. He’s clearly new to the business of having so many people rely on him for direction, but he certainly doesn’t appear to be fumbling too badly. Tents and other such makeshift structures—even a few that look more permanent, if not yet fully constructed—are scattered around the base of the tower, the doors flung wide open, people moving in and out as if bringing out resources from inside. Minfilia vaguely recalls something about the Crystal Tower being _sealed shut,_ but puts that aside for a moment. Perhaps it is not truly the same tower. There are other, more important questions to consider.

Especially considering once she approaches the redheaded Miqo’te, he double-takes at the sight of her.

“M- _Minfilia_?” he says, startled. “What are you doing here…?”

Minfilia cannot tell if he’s happy or horrified. She doesn’t give him the truth, yet. “Pray, forgive me, but I do not believe we have had the pleasure of meeting…?”

“Oh! Oh, yes, my apologies. It’s- the name is G’raha Tia.” He bows, with a flourish. “I presume- I presume Anna must have mentioned me? Though I suppose if the Warrior of Light had better things to do than to—”

“No, no, she mentioned you,” Minfilia interjects rapidly, not wanting to hear him put himself down, especially over something that isn’t true. “She spoke very, very highly of you, in fact.” It… _is_ the same Crystal Tower, then, Minfilia realizes.

G’raha blushes, scratching idly at his ears for a moment, then recalls himself. “Right, yes, I suppose you are wondering what I am doing here, then… though I must say I would ask the same of you? Perhaps we should move somewhere a little more, erm, private to talk. And then we can trade stories.”

“That sounds fine by me,” Minfilia answers.

She looks briefly to her left, where Ardbert stands—but G’raha does not ask about him, nor does he appear to see him. Perhaps that is an ability limited to those with the Echo? Or some other blessing of Hydaelyn which Minfilia has found bestowed upon herself.

And so G’raha leads them—well, Minfilia, really, but Ardbert continues to follow—into the tower, pausing at a door long enough to perform some sort of magic. The room on the other side is suitable enough to sit and have a conversation (even if it requires moving some books off of chairs, first), so sit and have a conversation they do. G’raha talks about the Eighth Umbral Calamity he was awoken in the aftermath of, and his tentative plans to solve the problem.

( _he does not mention that he saw a future in which Anna had died_ )

“Though I admit I arrived here much sooner than I intended to,” he says. “Which I suppose is being better than too late, but…” He trails off, presses a hand to his chest, and sighs. “Never mind. I will see the Source saved, so long as I am alive to do anything about it, and I don’t intend on dying anytime soon.”

His fingertips, Minfilia realizes, when he presses them against the dark of his robes, have started to crystalize.

“What of you?” G’raha asks, and so Minfilia explains about the Warriors of Darkness, and Hydaelyn, and the Flood that she stopped.

“Do you suppose that will be enough?” she asks.

“…no,” G’raha answers, grimly. “No, I’m not sure it will be.” At Minfilia’s questioning look, he continues: “You have seen the sky, have you not? I feel that if our troubles were truly gone, it would not still look like that.”

“It definitely should not look like that,” Ardbert agrees, helpfully.

“I suppose Hydaelyn did all she could…” Minfilia begins, not sure what she’s doing, why she needs to defend the goddess who saved them. (Because what Hydaelyn did wasn’t enough, she knows, and anyone is right to be upset with that, but thinking in such a manner feels wrong.) ( _It is true, though_.) ( **It feels wrong.** )

G’raha smiles, though, determined. “We’ll just have to do all we can, as well. Which I suppose means we’ll have to find the what will cause the imbalance in aether so that we may put a stop to it, but… first, I figured I’d do what I could to help those who the initial Flood displaced. They all came flocking to the tower, after all. It seemed the least I could do for them. _And._ If anyone was going to have ideas about this world, it would be an expert from this world, would it not?”

Minfilia nods. That is true. “But… do we have time to wait for an expert?”

“Yes, we do,” G’raha insists, then laughs at Minfilia’s surprise of his confidence. “Time on the Source and time here, on the First, pass differently. I will need more time to be certain that it is not in flux, but for now I am certain that we are moving slower than the Source is. I have… means, to check in on the Warrior of Light, and I do so every morning. It has been three days, and she is still in the middle of the same conversation. Casting around elsewhere on the Source proves that they have several months before the Calamity is meant to hit, besides. Time, at least, is the one thing we do have right now.”

Minfilia does know much about G’raha, only that her best friend spoke very highly of him, and that is enough to take him at his words. His confidence does wonders for her own, as well. She will trust him.

“Though I suppose…” he continues, nervous, “I would understand if you would not believe me until I have shown you the Source?”

Minfilia shakes her head. “No, that won’t be necessary. I am happy to take you at your word. After all, we have people to help, do we not?”

G’raha looks surprised, but then he smiles. “Yes. Yes we do.”

“…I suppose I’ll go do some scouting,” Ardbert says to Minfilia’s back, as she and G’raha get to their feet. “I won’t be much help ‘round here, and I know this world better than either of you. I know some places I can look… we’ll see what I turn up. Just… don’t leave the tower, okay?” He smiles at her, rueful. “I’d hate to lose track of the one person who can hear me.”

Minfilia smiles back, pained. A thank you would take too long, especially since G’raha is unaware of her friend, but she always will make time for: “Take care, Ardbert.”

“Not sure anything can kill me twice,” he laughs, and then he’s gone.

“Minfilia?” G’raha asks.

“Coming.”

And so they get to work.

-

G’raha takes up the mantle of Exarch, and starts hiding his face—mostly because he finds the crystal that has started growing across it unsightly, Minfilia knows, but that is not something he tells anyone else. Minfilia, meanwhile, avoids taking up a mantle. What is the Antecedent with no Scions? And to take up the mantle of Oracle requires telling everyone she is responsible for the Flood’s halt, which feels… selfish, somehow. That is not something one can gracefully bring into conversation, and truthfully, _she_ wasn’t the one who did anything. Hydaelyn was. Hydaelyn deserves the praise more than she does.

A hundred years pass. Minfilia does not age, gifted agelessness by Hydaelyn. G’raha extends his life with the tower’s magics. It takes its toll on him, Minfilia knows, but she also knows her friend will do anything he must to see this through to the end.

They build the Crystarium. They research. They come up with a plan of attack.

All that’s left to do is summon the Warrior of Light.

**Author's Note:**

> Ryne is (er, will be,) still around, I'm just hammering the lore on the hows. i've got something in mind but that can wait for the longfic lol.
> 
> (also if you want a preview of the longfic you can start reading it [here!](https://rarsneezes.dreamwidth.org/40038.html) i'm gonna port it to ao3 eventually, i've just gotta make some formatting decisions i'm putting off)


End file.
